A Lesson in the Bigger Picture of Outrage

For all of you who are so vocally against Mr. Duck for what he said, please think of the repercussions of your spewing wildly. 

He is a multi-millionaire whose primary source of income isn't affected in any reasonable degree by your outrage. His main consumers, in fact, will probably BOOST their purchases of his duck call products to support him. Plus they'll double down on Duck Dynasty merchandise purchases and viewership.

Outside of income, the man and his family and their entire social circle are not affected in the least, socially, by your outrage. Do you not understand where he lives and what people there think about "liberal" opinions?

Who are you outraging to affect? He and people who think like him aren't going to pay you the slightest bit of attention anyway. You and the people who think like you already think like you. There's a middle ground of people who don't think at all, I suppose, but what's the real point in shouting for them if they are too dumb to have an opinion?

In summation, you've shouted, upset your FRIENDS who disagree with you (because the people you're debating with are hopefully friends and not complete strangers you let have access to your facebook wall), and further enriched a millionaire and entrenched him as someone "brave enough to speak his mind/beliefs even in the face of losing money" to a base of people who hold that as a cardinal virtue.

If your response is, "I don't want to be friends with people who think that", guess what? That's fine for this particular issue, but the bigger problem with holding to that is that if you require all your friends to think exactly like you do, a) you're whittling your potential friends to an unnecessarily small group of people who are redundant since they're not bringing any insight and b) sweet christ, how sheltered do you need to be from being displeased?  You're living in the exact bubble that Mr. Duck is. Way to go, dodo.

None of which is to say that you should casually accept bigotry or "hate". But I'd wait until an idiot sounds a call to action rather than sounds off on his underdeveloped opinion. The reasonable, intelligent thing to do is take note when someone says something you vehemently disagree with and treat them accordingly. If you were a fan of Duck Dynasty, stop watching and participating (buying merchandise, promoting it, etc). Be (moderately) quiet about it so as not to give them the reactionary bump/boost.

Or you can continue to bleat and ego-masturbate in your comfortable self-righteousness.

(edited 1/5/2014 because of an egregious attribution of of The Walking Dead to A&E instead of AMC...sheesh)

The No-Sided Conversation

Things had gotten weird between them.  That wasn't really it. They'd gotten "uncomfortable."  He thought. But that was the bitch of it.

He wasn't sure.  Maybe it was all in his head.  But it didn't feel that way.

They were friends. "Glorified acquaintances," if he were honest about it.  Their circles overlapped from time to time.  Still, he liked her and that was the also the bitch of it.

Had he made her uncomfortable by being too flirty with her and crossed a line?  Had he simply been uncomfortable because he didn't know the right place to be with her flirty/friendly-wise and she picked up on his discomfort and became uncomfortable simply because he seemed to freeze up around her, as if she were doing something wrong?

It felt like they were on a feedback loop of emotional negativity and defensiveness, but without a real reason.  Perhaps.

Relyea Avenue

"Excuse me, sir. I'm a local attorney, and this is the house I was born in and I haven't been here in twenty years, at least. We moved away when I was six.

"May I look around? Walk out on the dock?

"My father built it, around when I was born."

"What's your name?

"Yeah, that's etched in concrete in the garage. 

"Go ahead.

"I know how memories go."

The house is different. Better. Renovated. When I was a child it was dark; trees bound it
and kept it in near perpetual shade. Now they're cleared away and it's lighter and not some '70s nightmare.

That's the spot on the driveway where I dropped the glass bottles, when I was three, and they exploded and I jumped up and down, barefooted, in the shards, and screamed, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" and was forgiven for cussing because I was bleeding and crying.

Between those two trees, there used to be a platform my pop built for me for a zip line he set up across the yard.  He dug a pit beneath it and filled it with leaves, in case I slipped and fell.
And I protested and railed against the pit, as a four year old, because I'd never fall, and promptly was saved by those leaves on my very first attempt to get on.

The grass on that spot on the lawn is grown back, but, literally, for years, it was bare, scorched dead, from where my cousin Mari set down a sparkler on top of a bag of fireworks on some 4th of July. And I remember being tossed over someone's shoulder as everyone sprinted away in all directions from the blast and I watched it erupt into an explosion of a million white hot sparks, like the Death Star met its end on our lawn.

There's the tree next to the dock I used to climb, and there's the pluff mud where, when it was low tide, because I was so small, I could carefully walk out onto it for a ways without sinking in too much, but, if I did, I got the hose before I was allowed back in the house. I didn't know anything could be that cold.

The dock! The dock! The dock! There's where I stood and Pop helped me fire a gun for the first time. He helped me hold and aim and squeeze and I shot the pluff mud and the M1 Garand nearly broke my shoulder and I cried and "I'm going to count to three and then I'll give you something to cry about! One, Two, Three!"

And look at that! Raccoon droppings on the dock. Pop hated raccoons scat on his dock.
He even rigged a trip wire to a car battery to fry the little bastards, until my mom found out and made him take it down because she envisioned a pile of dead neighborhood kids, who'd attempt to sneak onto the dock at night. So Pop left triscuit crackers coated in tabasco out there, thinking aversion therapy would keep them off the dock, but all that really happened was we couldn't sleep because raccoons screamed in the trees all night as they shat fire.

The boards are spongy, as though they can't handle an adult me. I fell off the dock plenty of times. 

There was that one time at a party, when I was a baby, seated on the edge, next to the creek. "James, don't let him sit so close, he'll fall in."
"He's fine."
I wasn't. They turned their heads for an instant and in I went. Pop ripped off his watch and tore out his wallet and launched in and brought me up. And when I learned to swim years later, the family friend who taught me,  who held me as I worked on my form,  would always tell folks how I trembled and trembled in her hands.

And I walk back to get in my car and leave and that was then and this is now and I have  marsh and pluff mud and saltwater and lowcountry in my veins and bones and I'll find my home again.

I will.

Thanksgiving 2013

I run to clear some space
or justify gluttony later.

I bathe. I iron. I dress.
I heap the plate with yellow:
potatoes, macaroni, yellow rice casserole; 
then brown: turkey and stuffing.
Oh, fine, I'll get some salad.
3. 2. 1. Go!
Inhale food, not air.
Ow. Ow. Ow.

Up from the table,
down to the couch.
Along comes beer.
and now for intermittent wakefulness,
as gladiators smash into each other
interspersed with exhortations to:
shop, shop, shop!
and
spend, spend, spend!
and get out the house ASAP!
to join the maddening crowd
to buy unnecessary stuff
that people we love don't really need
for the next time we have time off to see them
instead of staying home and 
spending time with them
instead of staying home and 
spending time with them now.

NO!

I couch and beer and smile
and laugh and listen and tell
and nap and am covered in
nuclear fire-hot dogs
and this is how it's
supposed to be.

The Forum Pt. 2

As The Forum was technically out of the purview of the school, I was free to publish whatever I wanted.  I was strongly encouraged to get a faculty advisor.  I selected the Wills professor who liked to make sex party and heroin jokes in class.  He said this edition was one of the funniest things he'd read, period, but he couldn't advise me to release it in this version.  I took his advice because, you know, I needed a job after school.  Five years later though, I present to you my unfettered vision:
 
(Scroll Down to See):



 

The Forum Pt. 1

 

The pinnacle of law school-dom is being an Editor in Chief.  There are only a handful of publications (USC has Law Review; ABA Real Property, Trusts, & Estate Law Journal; Journal of Law and Education; and the International Journal of Law and Business).  Editors in Chief are some of the brightest legal minds of their graduating class. 

My law school grades were not abysmal, but they were roundly mediocre.  And I had (have) no fervent desire to practice law.  However, my third year of law school, I was the editor-in-chief of the law school's satire newspaper (no, I didn't invent it).  The Forum had a history of existing but no one publishing anything.  I managed to get two issues out in the fall.  I joked that the other Editors in Chief could have their successful careers, trophy wives, and respect of their peers; I had more readers (non-parent division) than all of them combined. 

Without further ado...

(Scroll Down to See)

 

 



Good Luck With That

I knew the day was coming, but I didn't know it would be today.

Pop: "You know I'm going to get you to do what I want you to do."
Me: "You know how good you've been at that over the years." (Editor's Note: He has not; at all)
Pop: "I'm going to bribe you."
Me (knowing where this is going): "Uh huh."
Pop:  "I'm gonna tie inheritance to you getting married and giving me grandchildren pretty soon."
Me: "Yeah...that'll do it." (Editor's Note: It won't)

That said, if any fun, adventurous, hilarious, wildly intelligent, beautiful single woman wants a piece of a retired teacher's nest egg and is willing to grow my spawn inside herself, by all means holler. 

Oh, and you'll need to have money of your own until the old man kicks the bucket because I'm flat-broke.

Coach Clark

Randy Clark was a giant to me as a boy. And I'm not being figurative. I mean he was huge.  I was maybe 5'5" and maybe 100lbs, at most, back then.

He was the varsity basketball coach and the middle school principal. And if he wanted to be, he could be scary (he was the principal after all...he gave me my first lecture on sexual harrassment in seventh grade), but for the most part he was gregarious. He was my classmate Eric's dad too.

I didn't know him as Randy, of course. I was a 12 and 13 year old when I was in middle school.  I didn't know him as Mr. Clark.  He was Coach Clark.  That was that.

I remember various things about Coach Clark. There was that lecture (and all that was my classmate Paul's fault. After I'd been in the vicinity after Paul had dropped his pen and told the girl whose desk it dropped under to "spread your legs so I can get that" which got us a finger wag, we were in the lunch line and a different girl cut us. Paul told her "get to the back of the line, hoe." She asked what he called her and I said "a garden tool."   wockawockawocka).  He taught me social studies in 7th or 8th grade and I remember when he took my text book from me at the end of the year to show the class that it needed to be clean with no markings and, out of the 500 page book, he happened to open it to the page where I'd scribbled cusswords earlier in the year.

Oof.

Then, at the end of the school year in 8th grade, my family life went to hell in a handbasket.  Lawyers were involved; custody was contested.  I literally didn't have a place to stay.

And Randy Clark (and his wife Ellen) stepped up and took me in.  Yes, I was his son's classmate and he was the principal, but Eric and I hadn't been super close and...just...and.  That was a big, damn deal.  The Clarks didn't have to bring me in and they did.

I stayed with the Clarks for the last three weeks of the school year.  The legal whathaveyou resulted in me moving away for high school. I happened to run into some of my former classmates and Coach Clark in Hilton Head a couple of years later at some academic something or other.  Other than that, life has gone on: high school, college, the army, law school, whatever this period is.  I ran into Eric five or six years ago in Columbia.  We both looked much different (7 inches and another hundred pounds will do that).  We made small talk. That was that.

I ran into Eric again last night. I asked him how he was doing. He told me Coach was in the ICU.   A group of faces I haven't seen in twenty years appeared to comfort and support Eric.  There were many faces I didn't recognize. But I had no doubt they were men and women that Coach Clark had an impact on.  It wasn't my place to insinuate myself into their congregation so I left them be. 

I let my mind wander to that time he and his wife showed me extraordinary kindness.  As a 13 year old going through a crappy time, I appreciated it. As a 34 year old, I am awed and indebted to them.

Today, I learned that he has passed.

I am being figurative: Randy Clark is a Giant.

If Only, Kurt. If only.

I don't want to say "there are times where you feel helpless", because, most of the time you're helpless and you just refuse to admit it to yourself.  Most things you can't control, no matter how much you think you can.  However, I'm gonna say that "there are times you feel helpless" because even if you can't control things, many times (even if only sometimes) you have a chance to at least nudge them in the direction you're looking for, but, occasionally, rarely (thank God), you can't even do that. 

When you're a kid, you give up easily. Things are "impossible!" As you age and learn stick-to-it-iveness, though, you start to believe that pretty much anything is possible, that if you bear down and focus and get on it, you can achieve what you set your mind to.  Sure, sure, some of that is fantasy, but adults (the worthwhile ones) refuse to accept that anything simply can't be done.

Every once in a while though, there's no second opinion you can get; there's no figuring a way out of the problem; what's done is done. 

My grandfather got a chest x-ray as part of a regular checkup and there seemed like there was something on his lung, so they did another x-ray. Everything came back clear.  Six months later, he had another x-ray done.  Cancer everywhere.  Turned out that, on the second x-ray six months before, a rib had blocked the small cancer spot that had shown up on the first x-ray.  Didn't matter that the x-ray tech should have thought of that six months earlier.  By the time they realized what had happened, he was done.  Yes, yes. There's chemotherapy and radical treatments and whatnot, but when that sort of thing happens, there's no fixing it.  He died.

As a soldier and a pragmatist, I'm more aware than most that life is precious and that there are no do-overs or take-backs.  I'm comfortable with, well, if not "comfortable" at least I understand and accept, the fact that sometimes "bad" things happen.  There's not much use crying over spilt milk or pondering what could have been if things had been done differently.  Time travel doesn't exist.

Nearly all psychological therapy can be distilled down to acceptance, as in "What happened happened and can't be undone. You need to accept it and move on."

Of course, none of that is to say that because I am aware of the unrelenting nature of time and fact that I therefore have no problems accepting difficult happenstances.

I am better at acceptance than many, particularly when it concerns myself.  If something bad/unfortunate happens to me, "thems the breaks" and I try to move on with my day (hypocrisy acknowledgement: yes, there are things I have never let go of).

When something bad happens to friends and family though, I have a particularly hard time with it because I refuse to accept that there isn't a way out for them.  And, even if I accept that there isn't a way out for them, I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate it, because...well... just because.

Because I love them and don't want anything bad to happen to them no matter how unrealistic that is, because that's what loving someone is.

Would that it were "Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt."

But...

The Shutdown: What Happens When Folks Don't See Outside Their Bubble

I am absolutely, completely baffled that non-Tea Party politically-affiliated folks are absolutely, completely baffled by the "Government Shutdown."  I am this way, not because I'm a Tea Partier, but because I'm an objective observer who doesn't live in a bubble with people with the exact same views as myself.

You Better Know Who You're Talking To

That last thing on earth a guy on a date wants to have happen is to get drawn into an argument with a total douchebag.  But, tried as I might to avoid it, it happened anyway, and the douchebag had the nerve to pull out the "PhD in Obscure Something Something at  Famous West-Coast University" as the argument-ender.   I was non-plussed.

Would You Rather Be Happy or Right?

If I had my "druthers", I'd rather be happy AND right.

Frankly, I think it's a horsecrap question.  If I behave in a way that I believe is right, I'm not sure I can be happy if the alternative to what I'm doing is the "path to happiness."  Metaphorically speaking, I'm "right" to drive the direction I do (with traffic) on the interstate.  Is the path to "happy" to drive the wrong way, against traffic? That's not going to make me happy either.

But, yes, yes, I know.  The point is really about being an argumentative pain in the ass and not seeing the forest for the trees, that you can "win" the individual battle (argument) and lose the war (not actually persuade your opponent and in fact set them harder against your point).

Anna McPherson

And the door opened
and then there she was:
my first love

Not the first girl I was in love with,

"What Do You Do?"

She asked with a slight sneer and a hint of condescension.

Clearly, I'm some Hawaiian shirt wearing buffoon.

I really hate that question.

Welllllll....

The One-Sided Conversation

He listened intently to her and looked at her from across the table where they were all sitting and chatting.

"That's not a fair thing to tell me.   You can't tell me about the problems you're having with him.  I'm trying to be your friend.  I'm trying very hard to be your friend. To be encouraging and supportive. You've got other friends for that. Friends who aren't me.  And I can't tell you that's not a fair thing to tell me because simply saying that reveals the issue. More than that though, I can't tell you that I can't tell you because saying even that reveals the issue too.

"And of course the issue is that I like you.  English has over half a million words.  English
speakers have conquered the planet. And yet somehow there's not an adequate word for you-make-me-feel-tingly-and-I-marvel-at-being-around-you, because we're too cowardly or unimaginative. And I don't mean love because I can't mean that. How could I? I haven't been able to know you well enough yet. That non-existent word that the English language hasn't invented (but should), well, the feeling it would try to capture, lets me know I sure as hell could love you though. Which is a terrifying, mesmerizing thing.

"And I can't tell you that because you are with someone else.  Yes, I mean, I could. But how the hell is that remotely fair?  If I like you (non-magic version) and care about you as a friend [which I do, because I sure as hell wouldn't like you (magic version) if I didn't or couldn't care about you as a friend], I should care about you and what's best for you over myself and what I want.  That's how I treat friendship, anyway.  Friendship is about the other person, about the satisfaction, enjoyment, and pleasure you get from simply knowing your friend and, if you can ever help or be there for someone you enjoy and care about, so much the better.  Friendship isn't take, take, take.  That's how I see it anyway.

"So I'm your friend and I've got this 'thing' for you and maybe if I were younger, I'd figure out some soap-operatic, romantic way to do the Big Reveal. Actually, I definitely would. I have before. And...yeah. I'm not doing that again/any more.  Because again, it's not fair.  You didn't ask for it. He didn't ask for it.  And now I'm just supposed to drop that grenade in there? There are a lot of people this unasked-for feeling could affect. 'Affect.' No, that's not the right word. Hurt. I don't want to hurt any body.

"Plus, yeah. I'm attracted to you. So what?  If I couldn't be friends with a woman I'm attracted to, I couldn't be friends with a lot of women.  I mean, I'm definitely not attracted to my other female friends in the same way that I am with you, but the point still stands.  Younger guys have a harder time with it, but at a certain point, as a man, you just kinda acknowledge the attraction to yourself and move on with your day.  Because otherwise, you're not really having female friends; you're kinda an asshole who's waiting for his opening to get what he wants.

"And I know you're attracted to me too. It's not like this is the first time friends and I have been attracted to each other; it's not my first rodeo.  When that happens you just keep everything above board and carry on.  Otherwise, well, the alternative is...nothing.  

"I suppose I could stop talking to you. To be frank, I definitely have tried to talk to you less, just so I don't cross lines or dissolve into a blubbering frustrated mess. But it's difficult and I'm not perfect at it and sometimes I've botched things by trying to figure out the right boundaries to have.  That's  the hard part of all this: figuring out how to be close to you without getting too close to you.  Honestly, it's tough as hell.

"So I like you and you're my friend and I love talking to you and being around you, but you're with someone else.  I have to respect that. Well, I don't have to, but I do, because, again, otherwise I'm kinda an asshole who's waiting for his opening to get what he wants. And I suppose I could be that guy, but I don't want to be that guy.  

"So I'm trying my hardest not to be that guy.

"And maybe you're telling me about problems you're having with him to gauge my interest, but that's definitely not fair. In fact, it's kind of insulting to me and him.  You can't not know I like you.  But I didn't invent him. I didn't bring him into this situation.  I met you when you were with him.  You're my friend and you're with him.  So I hold our friendship above the liking/whathaveyou, and that means making an effort to like and be friendly to him and to be inclusive.  So that's what I've done.  That's what I do with my friends, female and male, that I'm not attracted to.

"But when my other friends, male or female, start to tell me about their issues with their significant others, I hear them out and talk through it with them and I'm there for them. I can't do that with you. I just can't.  Because I wouldn't know that I'm being the best friend for you that I can be, or that my feelings have taken over and I'm trying to get what I want.

"And of course I think I'm what's best for you.  But I'm also aware that I would think that.

"That decision is yours and yours alone.  And it has to be.  Maybe you want me to swoop in. Maybe you want the big romantic reveal.  But then a) I'm a guy who stole someone's girlfriend, who is not someone I want to be because that guy is not trustworthy and he's a selfish ass and b) you're the girlfriend who couldn't be trusted, who is someone I not only don't want you to be, but I can't be with.

"So I can be your friend. I am your friend. Even though I like you (Hurry up with that elusive word, Mr. Webster). And I've even said very nice, flattering things about him. Because they're true. He's a great guy from what I can tell.  And I've been encouraging about you two when it's come up and been appropriate.  But now you're telling me about problems you're having with him. And that's not a fair thing to tell me. And I can't tell you that's not a fair thing to tell me.  And I can't tell you that there's something I can't tell you," he thought to himself in a millisecond of emotion that he hoped didn't flash across his face.

So he shrugged and said, "Well, I hate to hear that. It's really unfortunate. He appears to be a great guy."

And then he intentionally broke the moment by trying to look like he did it unintentionally when he suddenly chimed in on what their friends were saying, none of whom had the slightest idea of what he and she'd been talking about, because the place was loud and everyone was being festive.  Except maybe that other friend of theirs, whom he suspected liked her too.

The Hawaiian Shirts

Out and about the other night and a pretty friend teased about my penchant for wearing Hawaiian shirts.  I playfully protested that they're fantastic and she, correctly, said, "Oh, you know they're terrible. That's not the point. They're your thing."  She's one of the few smart ones.

Instability: Short Story in a Timeline

Without dissecting individual years , my "home" addresses:

The Bear in the Funny Hat Riding a Bicycle in the Circus

Last night, teasing with a newer friend, the conversation went, jokingly, to a dark place.  I'm fine with dark humor, but objectively it can become terrifically unfunny because of who I am and the fact that I'm saying it. I sent the note below this morning.  I share because this is a recurring issue with folks who've met me since my time in the army and lose sight of my bigger picture sometimes.

Soo....

I like to say all sorts of things, true and otherwise. I like to say true things as though they're complete fabrications and I like to say complete fabrications as though they're true. I do my best to say both with the same delivery. I enjoy seeing what people fall for. I'm usually testing even as I'm trying to entertain. That's my schtick.  

I also am relatively unafraid to lead a conversation to a bizarro place or to prod someone else there and see if they keep up. I am definitely unafraid to be awkward or weird. That's how any number of vulgar/outrageous/ridiculous conversations I've managed to have with you.

You've proven pretty adept at knowing that most of the things I say are b.s. or, even if "true" are framed just off ("fibbing" as you say) and clearly you're willing to follow or lead conversations to bizarro places. So, you're fun.

One of my other schticks, which is intimately tied to the above, is being the hawaiian-shirt-wearing goofball who doesn't take anything seriously. He can get away with saying all manner of things and it's taken with a grain of salt and, even when it comes out poorly (often), it's generally understood the intent is playful or joking.

However,

I'm also a 6'2", 200+lbs. army officer who's been to war in Iraq and who went as a contractor to Afghanistan.

Sometimes a conversation (like last night's) will get a little too close to that and then it's a bit like when you see a bear in a funny hat riding a bicycle at the circus. Every once in a while, it does something that makes you intimately aware that you're trapped in a tent with, you know, a bear.
 

It's hard for me to joke in regards to war/death/killing, not because I'm against gallow's humor (far from it), but unless the other person knows me very well, it's not really funny because, as I do with most everything else, I *may* not be joking. Then it's less black humor about war/death/killing and more potentially psychopathic ranting or mentally tortured war-vet rambling. Actual psychopath or tortured war-vet are not images I'm trying to cultivate.

So we're on the same page: I'm an Army Captain. I was in for four years and have remained on inactive reserves for the past 8 years (they can call me back if there's an emergency). I was stationed in Germany. I went to Iraq. There, because I'm an artilleryman (cannons) and an officer, I was a firebase commander.

All soldiers are trained to kill, technically. We don't shoot automatic weapons for trophies. However, as an artillery officer, my duty was less shoot-people-with-my-M16 and more supervise/direct/order-my-soldiers-to-launch-95lbs-projectiles-upwards-of-18-miles in order to support or protect the infantrymen or tankers that were out on patrol (or to protect the main base from the enemy launching rockets and mortars at them).

I drew my rifle a number of times over there, but never had to fire it in anger. Fortunately, I was never put in a position where I had to. That said, it's not that I'm thankful because I was afraid; it's because I'd much rather not have to have killed anyone, regardless of whether they were the "enemy".

At the same time, um, it's a bit weird (and seems awful) to tell civilians, but, yeah, I'd kill someone if it were required. I don't need particular training for that, just an awareness that it may needs be done and the will to follow through.

I'm a soldier; it's an ingrained part of who I am, and has been for all of my life (my family is super-military). I've always understood violence and killing as (regrettable) facts regardless that I'm personally a pacifist.

Simply put, I don't fight. I've taken my fair share of punches before. I wouldn't fight if what were at stake were a butt-whuppin'. But I would kill if it were required. And I hope I'm never in a situation that requires.

All of that said, I much prefer being the hawaiian shirt wearing goofball who doesn't take things seriously. I'm a Christian. I try to be "good". I try to be honorable. I try to be kind.

Now that's all cleared up, I'd like to go back to wearing the funny hat and riding the bicycle in circles (awkwardly/weirdly) for your entertainment.

The World is a Dangerous Place (and it always has been)

Life has gotten in the damn way of an awful lot of things for me lately.  One of them has been this post, one I've wanted to get put together for five or six months.

I was out with my friends.  As I'm 34, most of my friends are now married or definitively coupled-up or whatever the living-in-sin-without-the-judgment-of-others is called these days.  Of that group of friends, one of the four couples is kinda/sorta trying to have kids.  One of the others will, and two of the others are a flat-out HELL NO on the subject.  It surprised me that it was the women who were vehemently opposed.

Who are these anti-progeny ladies?  Merry has an Ivy League PhD and is my age.  Lauren was summa cum laude in law school and just turned thirty.

I playfully needled, but I meant what I was saying.  What was I needling/saying?  It's simple:

The stupid are outbreeding the intelligent.  It's smart folks' DUTY TO HUMANITY to reproduce.  Outside of that though, it's practically a license to print money (though, I must admit, my being smart has not resulted in my printing money...yet).

Merry got pissed. And she didn't get pissed because I was needling her when she'd made up her mind on the subject.  No, she was pissed because HOW ON EARTH COULD I FATHOM PUNISHING A CHILD BY BRINGING IT INTO EXISTENCE WHEN THE WORLD IS FALLING APART AND GETTING WORSE ALL THE TIME?!?!?!?

Then there was the addendum of "I really respected your intelligence, Ajax, but I can't believe you think that it's responsible to bring a child into this world!"

Lauren didn't have too much to add because she 100% agreed with Merry.

As we'd been out and gotten into the wine a bit much, I didn't have too much to retort with other than "every generation thinks the world is going to hell."  I do know history, though, and didn't want to drunkenly conflate and ruin my argument, so, months later, here goes:
_________________________________________________________
 My name is Ajax DuBose Carpenter. By direct lineage, I'm 9 generations removed from the Ajax Carpenter who started the Carpenter family line here in North America:

Ajax Carpenter b.1660-1736
Ajax II b. 1687-1721
Ajax III b. 1717-1775
Abijah 1743-1805
James English 1800-1883
Edward James 1828-1897
George Robert 1875-1913
David Hopkins 1908-1991
James Aldrich Wyman 1939-
Ajax DuBose 1979-

Let's look at the past 300 years and the environments these men produced children:

Ajax Carpenter b.1660-1736:  Born a protestant in the foothills of the Alps in Dauphiné, Ajax and his wife fled France upon the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes (an "irrevocable" edict of religious toleration).  They crossed the ocean in a wooden boat and arrived in 15-year-old Charleston knowing zero English.  They built a homestead in the Huguenot township of Jamestown (historical; no longer exists).  They had given up their homes, their families, and their country, to live amongst their historical enemies, the English, and in fear of new enemies, the Native Americans in a time of rampant disease and high-infant mortality rates.  Verdict: MUCH WORSE THAN TODAY

Ajax II b. 1687-1721:  The man died at 34...my age.  Living at the dawn of the 18th century was far from a healthy time to be alive.  While he didn't cross an ocean like his mama and daddy did, he did get to live during the Yemassee War, when the Natives rose up and slaughtered a good many colonials.  Yeah. So there's that.  We have war and terrorism.  Agreed.  We don't have individual terrorists burning down our homes or raping and/or killing us.  Verdict: MUCH WORSE THAN TODAY

Ajax III b. 1717-1775: III lasted longer.  He still was not living in a super-safe time, nor a healthy one.  He was around for the Cherokee War, but I can't say he participated. He had it better than his forebears, but that's not saying much.  Verdict: WORSE THAN TODAY

Abijah b.1743-1805: Well, this is where it gets embarrassing from a modern perspective.  Abijah died owning a great deal of land and "negroes" by his will.  According to his will he was able to leave land and "negroes" to many of his children.  So, it was a crappy time to live because owning humans was a thing, but for him personally, perhaps it was a perfectly wonderful time. Other than that whole, "Revolution" thing and SC having more battles fought in it than any other colony.   So as not to skew my point, I'll say Verdict: NOT BAD IF YOU WERE A SOUTHERN WHITE MALE OF SLAVEHOLDING STOCK; OTHERWISE, WORSE THAN TODAY

James English b.1800-1883:  Gonna be honest, I don't have a whole lot of info on Jimmy, other than that he was "Colonel James English Carpenter".  Was that from the War Twixt the States?  No idea, but I kinda doubt it.  Perhaps it was the Mexican American War? Wars against Indians?  Dunno.  I'll give him the worse than his daddy because his entire way of life was upended (not saying it shouldn't have been).  Verdict: NOT BAD, AT FIRST, IF YOU WERE A SOUTHERN WHITE MALE OF SLAVEHOLDING STOCK, THEN IT GOT CONSIDERABLY WORSE; OTHERWISE, WORSE THAN TODAY.

Edward James b. 1828-1897:  Yeah, so his life was pretty much divided by pre/post slavery.  He was a doctor, so good for him, but then he was one of the first recorded divorces in SC history so...way to lead the way great-great-grandpa! (Dammit).  Late 1800s SC was not a thriving place.  Verdict: NOT BAD, AT FIRST, IF YOU WERE A SOUTHERN WHITE MALE OF SLAVEHOLDING STOCK, THEN IT GOT CONSIDERABLY WORSE; OTHERWISE, WORSE THAN TODAY.

George Robert b. 1875-1913: So, my grandaddy's daddy.  He left the family stead (former plantation) and went to law school.  He joined in the Spanish American War and caught tuberculosis.  He was elected to the state legislature.  He was on James Tillman's defense team for the Trial of the Century (After the Lt. Governor shot and killed N.G. Gonzalez, the editor of The State in broad daylight).  He died young because of the disease he'd contracted at war, leaving a young widow and orphans. Verdict: THINGS WERE PRETTY GOOD UP UNTIL THEY ENDED BADLY BECAUSE OF DISEASE; FINE, BETTER THAN RIGHT NOW...EXCEPT NO. WORSE.

David Hopkins b. 1908-1991: His father died when he was five.  His father's business partner stole the estate so the children were left destitute.  He got to go through WWI and the Spanish Flu as a child.  Then, as he was in college, the Great Depression hit.  Then he got to go through WWII.  Then, the Cold War, where at any moment everyone could have died by nuclear apocalypse.  He gritted his teeth, built a company from the ground up and succeeded anyway, having three children of his own along the way.  Verdict: The mid-1900s were the most dangerous time anyone has ever lived EVER.  Theoretically mankind could have ended in a day. WAY WORSE.

James Aldrich Wyman b. 1939-: WWII as a boy; cold war through the majority of his adult life. Oh, and there was Vietnam (though he did not go despite being in the army at the time).  He got a decade of relative peace and security until September 11th, but, hey, he already reproduced twice by then. Verdict: The mid-1900s were the most dangerous time anyone has ever lived EVER.  Theoretically mankind could have ended in a day. Not as bad as his daddy's time, but still a majority of his life in the spectre of annihilation at any moment. WORSE.

Ajax b. 1979-: The world had a population half the current size only thirty years ago.  Terrorism, long an issue in the rest of the world, reared its head in 1993 in NYC, Oklahoma in 1995 (homegrown even!), and, of course, September 11th, when I had been a 2nd Lieutenant in the Army for all of three months.  I went to Iraq as a soldier.  I went through the Great Recession.  I went to Afghanistan as a civilian contractor.  Neither of those wars is worse than the wars of the 20th century.  Terrorism, while, you know, terrifying, will not end life on the planet in a day (fingers crossed...knock on wood).  Medical advances have mostly stemmed epidemics (that will affect Americans, the most blessed, fortunate people on the planet) and the issue of overpopulation will ruin the under-developed world long before it affects me or my putative children.  Global Warming as a reason not to have children, when considered from a historical perspective, is ludicrous/bizarre/laughable. Verdict: The best time in the past 300 years (aka ever) to have children.
______________________________________________________________________________
Aside from just "is now a reasonable time to have children?", historically, the issue of the intelligent/leading classes not having enough children is one that has plagued humanity for over 2000 years. 


Augustus Caesar, master of the known world, addressed members his "knightly" class in this manner, according to Cassius Dio in his history (book 56) because there were so many of them who would not have children:

"A strange experience has been mine, O — what shall I call you? Men? But you are not performing any of the offices of men. Citizens? But for all that you are doing, the city is perishing. Romans? But you are undertaking to blot out this name altogether. 3 Well, at any rate, whatever you are and by whatever name you delight to be called, mine has been an astonishing experience; for though I am always doing everything to promote an increase of population among you and am now about to rebuke you, I grieve to see that there are a great many of you. I could rather have wished that those to whom I have just spoken were as numerous as you prove to be, and that preferably you were ranged with them, or otherwise did not exist at all.  4 For you, heedless alike of the providence of the gods and of the watchful care of your forefathers, are bent upon annihilating our entire race and making it in truth mortal, are bent upon destroying and bringing to an end the entire Roman nation. For what seed of human beings would be left, if all the rest of mankind should do what you are doing? For you have become their leaders, and so would rightly bear the responsibility for the universal destruction. 5 And even if no others emulate you, would you not be justly hated for the very reason that you overlook what no one else would overlook, and neglect what no one else would neglect, introducing customs and practices which, if imitated, p13would lead to the extermination of all mankind, and, if abhorred, would end in your own punishment? 6 We do not spare murderers, you know, because not every man commits murder, nor do we let temple-robbers go because not everyone robs temples; but anybody who is convicted of committing a forbidden act is punished for the very reason that he alone or in company with a few others does something that no one else would do. 5 Yet, if one were to name over all the worst crimes, the others are as naught in comparison with this one you are now committing, whether you consider them crime for crime or even set all of them together over against this single crime of yours. 2 For you are committing murder in not begetting in the first place those who ought to be your descendants; you are committing sacrilege in putting an end to the names and honours of your ancestors; and you are guilty of impiety in that you are abolishing your families, which were instituted by the gods, and destroying the greatest of offerings to them, — human life, — thus overthrowing their rites and their temples. 3 Moreover, you are destroying the State by disobeying its laws, and you are betraying your country by rendering her barren and childless; nay more, you are laying her even with the dust by making her destitute of future inhabitants. For it is human beings that constitute a city, we are told, not houses or porticos or market-places empty of men. 

4 "Bethink you, therefore, what wrath would justly seize the great Romulus, the founder of our race, if p15he could reflect on the circumstances of his own birth and then upon your conduct in refusing to beget children even by lawful marriages! 5 How wrathful would the Romans who were his followers be, if they could realize that after they themselves had even seized foreign girls, you are not satisfied even with those of your own race, and after they had got children even by enemy wives, you will not beget them even of women who are citizens! How angry would Curtius be, who was willing to die that the married men might not be bereft of their wives! How indignant Hersilia, who attended her daughter at her wedding and instituted for us all the rites of marriage! 6 Nay, our fathers even fought the Sabines to obtain brides and made peace through the intercession of their wives and children; they administered oaths and made sundry treaties for this very purpose; but you are bringing all their efforts to naught. 7 And why? Do you desire to live apart from women always, even as the Vestal Virgins live apart from men? Then you should also be punished as they are if you are guilty of any lewdness. 

6 "I know that I seem to you to speak bitterly and harshly. But reflect, in the first place, that physicians, too, treat many patients by cautery and surgery, when they cannot be cured in any other way; 2 and, in the second place, that it is not my wish or my pleasure to speak thus. Hence I have this further reproach to bring against you, that you have provoked me to this discourse. As for yourselves, if you do not like what I say, do not continue this conduct for which you are being and must ever be reproached. If my words do wound some of you, how much more do your actions wound both me and p17all the rest of the Romans! 3 Accordingly, if you are vexed in very truth, change your course, so that I may praise and recompense you; for that I am not harsh by nature and that I have accomplished, subject to human limitations, everything it was proper for a good law-giver to do, even you cannot fail to realize. 

4 "Indeed, it was never permitted to any man, even in olden times, to neglect marriage and the begetting of children; but from the very outset, when the government was first established, strict laws were made regarding these matters, and subsequently many decrees were passed by both the senate and the people, which it would be superfluous to enumerate here. 5 I, now, have increased the penalties for the disobedient, in order that through fear of becoming liable to them you might be brought to your senses; and to the obedient I have offered a more numerous and greater prizes than are given for any other display of excellence, in order that for this reason, if for no other, you might be persuaded to marry and beget children. 6 Yet you have not striven for any of the recompenses nor feared any of the penalties, but have shown contempt for all these measures and have trodden them all underfoot, as if you were not living in a civilized community. You talk, forsooth, about this 'free' and 'untrammelled' life that you have adopted, without wives and without children; but you are not a whit better than brigands or the most savage of beasts. 7 For surely it is not your delight in a solitary existence that leads you to live without wives, nor is there one of you who either eats alone or sleeps alone; no, what you want is to have full liberty for wantonness and p19licentiousness. 2 Yet I allowed you to pay your court to girls still of tender years and not yet ripe for marriage, in order that, classed as prospective bridegrooms, you might live as family men should; and I permitted those not in the senatorial order to wed freedwomen, so that, if anyone through love or intimacy of any sort should be disposed to such a course, he might go about it lawfully. 3 And I did not limit you rigidly even to this, but at first gave you three whole years in which to make your preparations, and later two. Yet not even so, by threatening, or urging, or postponing, or entreating, have I accomplished anything. 4 For you see for yourselves how much more numerous you are than the married men, when you ought by this time to have provided us with as many children besides, or rather with several times your number. How otherwise can families continue? How can the State be preserved, if we neither marry nor have children? 5 For surely you are not expecting men to spring up from the ground to succeed to your goods and to the public interests, as the myths describe! And yet it is neither right nor creditable that our race should cease, and the name of Romans be blotted out with us, and the city be given over to foreigners — Greeks or even barbarians. 6 Do we not free our slaves chiefly for the express purpose of making out of them as many citizens as possible? And do we not give our allies a share in the government in order that our numbers may increase? And do you, then, who are Romans from the beginning and claim as your p21ancestors the famous Marcii, the Fabii, the Quintii, the Valerii, and the Julii, do you desire that your families and names alike shall perish with you? 8 Nay, I for my part am ashamed that I have been forced even to mention such a thing. Have done with your madness, then, and stop at last to reflect, that with many dying all the time by disease and many in war it is impossible for the city to maintain itself, unless its population is continually renewed by those who are ever and anon to be born.

  Smart folks, breed.

Nuremberg Pink Moon

Rainy day in a land chock full of them.
Off of the train, solo, for a wander,
Altstadt mixed mit neustadt due to the bombs.
Into a store, up the escalator.

Through the bins, found what I was looking for!
Underneath my felt hat, over my ears
Go headphones, sharing the Suicide's songs:
I saw it listen and I saw it say...

Stranger in a strange land amongst the ruins
Ostensibly deaf, mute, illiterate.
Oddly at peace, comfortable, self-possessed,
An ocean away from everyone else

Swathed in mournful beauty and constant mist,
I make my way across the cobblestones.
I need only know what's inside my head:
beauty and truth and self-contentedness.

Insomnia

The face-skin drapes poorly
The glue's done come unstuck
Haggard Purple blotches
Signify brain chaos
As all the wiring shifts
As effect precedes cause
And lightning jabbering
lotus tranquility
Fury righteous opaque
Retreating innocence
Tear apart savagery
Animalic hunting
Leave me be leave me be
So far away so near
All at once how bout that
Outside catatonia
Inside Perskrammer jaunnt!
Language can bite my ass
I'll bite! And tear! And shred!
Holy sleep I dread you
Can't catch you anyway
Who needs you you bastard
I already said that?
I already said that.
I already said that?
Who what when where why how
Be am is are was were
Been being no matter
Mommy used to carry
Me in her arms asleep
From the car to my bed
And I wouldn't know it
Dammit brain shut off now
Please please please whatever
Guess I'll sleep when I die
Sore. Decay! Glory Blaze!

MLB Opening Day: 2013 Guesses

Predictions typically are guesses people won't admit to only guessing about. These are guesses.

AL East:
1.  Rays (92 wins)- They know how to win with lower talent.
2.  Blue Jays (90 wins)- Hard to improve over 20 games in a year, regardless of makeover. New manager will make or break their playoff shot.
3. Orioles (86 wins)- biggest swing team. Buck Showalter could coax a 94 win, 1st place finish, or their actual talent could hold them to 77 wins and 4th place.
4. Red Sox (82 wins)- Bounce back seasons by stars (Ellsbury, Pedroia, Lester, Bucholz) will make them respectable. Always a chance they make a charge now they're free of Bobby V and have Farrell in as manager.
5. Yankees (77 wins)- Old and broken. Also, &*$! the Yankees on principle

AL Central
1. Tigers (94 wins)- Austin Jackson will make a leap
2. Royals (84 wins)- Over .500 is like the playoffs for them. But it's still not the playoffs.
3. White Sox (82 wins)- Father Time murders Konerko and the offense dives.
4. Indians (81 wins)- Bauer impresses. Francona makes them respectable.
5. Twins (72 wins)- A dumpster fire. Mauer improves power this year. Cracks 20+ if healthy.

AL West
1. Angels (89 wins)- Offense mauls everyone. Pujols goes back to being The Machine and captures the MVP.
2. Rangers (84 wins)- Meh. They are just Meh. Yu Darvish goes top-3 in Cy Young
3. Mariners (84 wins)- They are due to not be the worst offense in decades for once this decade. Totally guess. No justification.
4. As (77 wins)- Chinua Achebe died the other day. Things Fall Apart. A team of nobodies plus Cespedes goes back to reality. 77 wins is charitable.
5. Astros (59 wins)- Dumpster fire without Mauer.

NL East
1. Braves (99 wins)- The potential of seven positions is All-Star level (LF, CF, RF, SS, 2B, 1B, C). Three of those, Justin Upton, Jason Heyward, and Freddie Freeman, have MVP ability if they hit their max. Bullpen is phenomenal if Freddie Gonzalez doesn't amputate them. Starters are above average and they are deep to absorb injuries. My reach pick.
2. Nationals (98 wins)- More steady than the Braves lineup, but Harper is the only one with MVP potential. He has an impressive second year. Pitching makes this team.
3. Phillies (88 wins)- This is their peak potential as a team. They reach it trying to make the WC. Lee and Hamels push each other towards 20 wins each. Halladay figures out a way to get 15 wins.
4. Mets (76 wins)- Ew and boring. Ike Davis goes for nearly 40HR though.
5. Marlins (60 wins)- Dumpster fire. With Giancarlo Stanton. He hits 45+HR and severely injures a 3B or pitcher with a line drive

NL Central
1. Reds (93 wins)- Offense mashes but pitching staff gets lit up at Great American Ballpark. Joey Votto shoots for a .350 BA and 1.100 OPS.
2. Pirates (85 wins)- God forgives Pittsburgh and lets them break .500
3. Cardinals (81 wins)- Injuries take their toll.
4. Cubs (79 wins)- Their pitching is surprisingly good.
5. Brewers (76 wins)- Mediocrity, thy name is Milwaukee.

NL West
1. Dodgers (92 wins)- $200+ million payroll absorbs injuries well enough to win the division, albeit unimpressively.
2. Diamondbacks (86 wins)- Who cares? A boring team scared into 2nd place by fire-breathing Kirk Gibson.
3. Giants (82 wins)- That lineup is too shoddy to catch lightning two years in a row.
4. Padres (72 wins)- San Diego is a beautiful city at least.
5. Rockies (72 wins)- Batting Practice in Denver will be fun at least.

AL MVP- Pujols, Angels
AL Cy Young- Verlander, Tigers
AL Rookie- Jackie Bradley Jr. (Go Cocks!)*

NL MVP- Votto, Reds
NL Cy Young- Kershaw, Dodgers
NL Rookie- Tavares, Cardinals*

*Who the hell knows with rookies? Way too unpredictable.  Myers (TB) could be an MVP candidate or a replacement-level dud.

Your Social Advocacy Is Probably Misguided

Subtle, yet HUGE, difference between illegal and not-legally-recognized.

In South Carolina, interracial marriages were illegal. Two people of different races married, they went to prison. Actually, probably just the black one.

In South Carolina, gay marriage is banned/not legally recognized. Two men or two women find a social institution to marry them, fine. They're married in their eyes and that institution's eyes. They do not get arrested and imprisoned for holding themselves out as married.

What they don't get is tax breaks for being married or access to family court in the event of disollution/divorce. South Carolina does not interfere/nullify with private contracts entered into by same sex partners.

In SC (and federally), people are raising hell, not about marriage or the right to marry, but fundamentally economic/tax/too-lazy-to-write-a-proper-will issues. If you want to put = signs up in solidarity of that or scream bloody murder about God's wrath on the gays, great, just know what the heck you're advocating for or against.

Your gay son/daughter/uncle/aunt/sister/brother/friend/self can go get married right now if someone will officiate the ceremony.

If you're in another jurisdiction and gay marriage is illegal, they by all means continue railing for/against what you've been *thinking* you're railing for/against.

(As it is always possible I have details incorrect, inadvertently, please comment and if valid, I will update)

Asking for Rejection

To Whom It May Concern,

I mailed in a fiction submission in December (~Dec 7, 2022) titled "Homecoming." As per the instructions on your webpage, I'm now contacting after 3 months to ascertain its status.

While I can only assume The Paris Review hasn't contacted me yet because you're still fundraising in order to give me All The Money and erect a Colossus in honor of my literary majesty, I am emailing on the miniscule, unfathomable happenstance that an un-agented amateur may somehow not have been up to snuff for such a prestigious publication (Infandum!).

If that were the case, a form rejection will provide a modicum of closure, though, of course, any notes or feedback would be appreciated to a degree far beyond rational measure.

May your day be lovely.

Inquisitively,

Captain Ajax Carpenter, Esquire
Charleston, SC

My/Your/Their Happiness

I've wind in my sails
the lapping of waves in my ears
sunshine on my face and chest
the emanating warmth of liquor 
spreading forth gutward out
Alone here in my tiny boat
Content
At peace

And you in your hulking marvel
standing on the topmost deck
arm around your loved one
amongst the teeming giddy crowd
you look out at the world beyond
and know the moment is for you

Behind your miracle of engineering
a flock of seagulls dip and dart and dive and soar
a veritable cloud so thick are they in their bedlam
praising whatever deity they can possibly conceive
for the feast that's been presented to them
though if they had sense they'd worship
your ship's turbine-powered props
dicing up fleets of fish sucked in 
their mechanical maws

Happiness abounds distinctly.